


Dream A Little Dream Of Me

by sensationalxbitch



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel
Genre: Agent Carter - Freeform, Captain America - Freeform, F/M, Loss, Manipulation, Marvel - Freeform, Pain, Peggy Carter - Freeform, Secret Avengers - Freeform, Smut, Torture, steve rogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 04:53:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15656157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sensationalxbitch/pseuds/sensationalxbitch
Summary: Steve Rogers is captured and tortured.





	Dream A Little Dream Of Me

Another fist across the face and Steve Rogers was spitting up blood while his knee was leaking from its own vessel. Cuts on his pale cheeks, bruises decorating his body, gashes on his torso, burn marks from a blowtorch on his feet, and bullet wounds in his kneecaps. If he hadn't been tied to a chair or starved for half a week, he'd be broken out and back to his full strength. The skin on his face was growing tight on his cheekbones and he's sure all of his color had been drained besides his blood and steel blue eyes. He fears that his hair and beard are graying, although that is far from the truth, they have grown darker as has he. The Steve Rogers from the war was gone. The Steve Rogers that had woken up was gone. The Steve Rogers that grew to be America's new hope was gone. The man that resides is evolved, darker, but stronger than anything he was before. He wore black, gold, and red instead of his nation's classic red, white, and blue. There was a fading star in the center that had been peeled off years ago, anything that resembled the original Avengers or SHIELD was missing. His new accord stays with the Secret Avengers, a team of heroes that are convicted fugitives. And he no longer goes by Captain America. 

His new life lies in the name of Nomad. 

And his new life is not treating him well. Held captive by several SHIELD agents in search of the newly assembled team, Steve has not spoken a word. He will never speak no matter how much torture they put him through. His loyalty lies with Natasha, Sam, Clint, Bucky, T'Challa, Scott, and Wanda. 

It had been fifteen minutes of silence, with Steve's head hanging low and his hands held behind his back, the latch clicked with the door swinging open seconds later. Heavy boots stepped down the wooden steps into the cellar where they kept Steve. He knew this man. He's the one who tortures him. His tools were about a yard away from Steve. Knives, hammers, a gun with only a few rounds, and gloves so the torturer doesn't get his hands dirty. 

Steve peered through the few strands of his long hair that hung above his eyes to view the burly man. He had weight to him and a fuzzy beard that looked like the fur of a bear although his head was bald and shiny. 

"Back already?" Steve chuckled hopelessly and spit up blood to the cold cement floor. "Thought I was done for the day."

"We're trying something new." The man held a sharp needle in his hand. Looked like silver. 

Steve smiled with his blood-stained teeth. "At least we have a variety." The man tightened his brown gloves and picked up the needle. "So where does this one go? Do I need to bend over?"

The man didn't speak, not even a grunt of frustration, he pulled up a chair and grabbed Steve by the chin. He forced his head to turn. "I've studied the human anatomy enough to know where the most painful places are," he paused, "and _you_ are lucky enough to experience one of them today."

Just behind the earlobe, an area people don't think about was a soft patch of skin. The needle pierced through and Steve's vision grew blurry. He ground his teeth as the veins in his neck flexed and he was sure he was screaming although he couldn't hear it. He couldn't hear anything. The needle went deeper and only scratched the surface of his brain. Then he heard nothing but the sounds of his panting breath. 

_What is that ringing sound? Why can't I feel the... what did he stick me with again? Where... where am I?_

Steve slammed his eyes shut and then he felt nothing. Heard nothing. It felt like he was on a cloud and he couldn't remember a single thing. 

_Who am I?_

Then there was light. A sunrise that seemed to be peeking through a window. His eyelids fluttered open. White, ruffled sheets covered his legs and slid down as he sat up. The room was painted a cream color and the windows had brown borders. The whole room seemed to have a coffee color theme, which was something he found relaxing. 

_I'm home._ He thought. Nothing seemed wrong. Steve reached up and rubbed his eyes then dragged his hand down his clean-shaven face. He felt an arm wrap around his bare body. 

"Morning, darling." A soft British voice spoke. Steve looked down and saw Peggy smiling with her eyes still shut. He ran his fingers through her brown curls. 

"Hey, baby." He smiled. _My wife._

Steve leaned down and kissed her forehead. As he pulled away, Peggy wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled him to her lips. Things heated up quickly. Peggy already had him between her legs before they had a chance to unclasp her bra. Steve pushed into her, making them both breathless, as she gripped his short hair. Their bodies moved like liquid for several minutes. Steve peered down to the sight before him: Peggy with her hair splayed out on the contrasting white pillow with her pink lips opened slightly, her eyes slammed shut in complete pleasure, reddened cheeks, a moan one after the other growing louder and louder until she was about to...

"Fuck!" He sighed as they both finished. Peggy's chest was heaving up and down in an attempt to catch her breath as Steve rolled over to his back. He was smiling as she began tracing her finger on his chest. 

"Do you want some wine?" She asked. 

"Isn't it a bit early to drink?" He chuckled and looked at her. It was almost like she was glowing in the radiant light. 

"It's Sunday and the church has people drinking their wine, who’s to say we can't drink ours?" Peggy smirked and kissed his cheek as she moved off the bed. It was seconds later when she returned with a bottle of red and two glasses. Standing, she placed the glasses on the nightstand and pulled the cork out of the bottle with her teeth, pouring the two glasses with the cork still between her fangs. 

Steve sipped his while he laid on his side to keep his full attention on her. "Darling, I never asked," she started, "where do you go every day? For work."

"We're in Romania." He chuckled, "I thought you already knew that."

"Seems I've forgotten." Peggy gulped some of her wine then held a finger under Steve's chin. "But you'll remind me of everything I ask, correct?"

"Of course, Peg. I wouldn't wanna lie to you." Steve smiled at her, feeling peaceful in his wife's presence. 

She patted his cheek. "Good boy." Steve turned his head and kissed her palm. "Who do you work with?"

"Natasha, Sam, Scott, Wanda, Bucky, T’Challa, Clint. You know ‘em."

Peggy hummed a smile as he kissed her palm over and over again. "Who runs this group and what is it called?"

Steve looked down then back to her. He took her wine glass out of her hand and put them on the nightstand. Peggy was smiling. "We, uh, we're not gonna talk all day, right?"

Steve hovered over her and dragged her down towards his groin. She laughed at his urgency and continued to kiss him lovingly. "Only if I get to be on top." She flipped them over and straddled his hips. Steve laughed and leaned up to taste her lips again as Peggy adjusted herself. He entered her again and Peggy began rolling her hips as their moans escaped each other's lips only to dissipate in the other's mouth. Then Steve took his turn. Tightening his grip on her hips, he thrusted fast, leaving him and her breathless. 

"Steve! Steve! Steve!" Her voice became higher and higher as her climax hit her hard. Their pace slowed down as he set her on her back once again. Their chests heaved up and down. "My wine?"

Steve handed her glass to her as she took a big gulp. A small stream of red rolling down her chin and dripped all the way down her throat. Steve licked up the column of her throat and sucked the liquid off of her chin. She moaned and kissed him once again. " _Steve..._ " She gasped. 

"The wine's good but I think you taste much better." She slapped his chest and giggled. 

"Cheeky." Peggy teased. 

Steve chuckled and sat back. "Well, I remember you liking that sort of thing."

“What else do you remember, Rogers?”

_Remember… What do I… How did I get here?_

“Steve?” Peggy asked curiously. He didn’t want to answer. Steve turned to the nightstand closest to him and picked up a framed photo. They were both laughing hysterically about something with Peggy in his lap. 

“What were we laughing at?” He tested her. 

"Darling, what's wrong?" Peggy's eyebrows pinched together as she put her wine aside. 

"What's _wrong?_ Oh, yeah, let's see." He began counting on his fingers. "I don't remember us getting married, I, uh, don't remember buying this house, I don't remember anything from yesterday, _oh! And how the hell are you alive?!_ " 

Peggy tried to hold both of his hands but he pulled away and put his wine on his nightstand. 

"Is this even real?" He asked himself as he stood. Steve dropped the photo onto the bed and put his hands in his hair. " _What kind of-_ "

"Darling, please just-"

" _-trick is this?_ " Steve felt like crying as all of his emotions rushed to the center of his brain. 

"Darling. Steve." Peggy crawled to the edge of the bed on her knees. Reaching out her hand for him, she lacked any sense of urgency or worry. "Take a moment and relax. Everything is alright. You're in _our_ home, in _our_ room, in _our_ bed. There's nothing to be scared of."

"How did I get here?" His voice broken and wobbly as his eyes grew watery. Steve walked carefully to her and took her hand. "Why am I here?"

"Because this is your home, darling. _Our_ home." Peggy's voice smooth like the fine wine they had been drinking.

With his other hand, Steve reached up and cupped her cheek gently. "Peggy," His other hand cupped her cheek as well. A tear streamed down his face. "I really want this to be real. I just-I know it's-I..." He took a deep breath as his face grew bright red. Tears streaming down his face now, his voice broken and raspy, filled with regret. "It can't." Steve sniffled. "It can't be real." He whispered in his raspy voice. 

"Why can't it?" Her voice thick. 

Steve's chin wobbling now. "Because... _you died_ , Peggy. You died five years ago."

"Steve, what are you on about?"

"This isn't real." He whispered to himself. "Peggy, this world isn't real. I crashed the plane in 1946. I was frozen for seventy years, I fought for the Avengers, then we butted heads and I caused a sort of civil war between us, I'm a fugitive, I've been laying low for the past five years. That's the world I know. Not this one."

Peggy was silent for a moment. "That... sounds like a nightmare."

"It is, Peg. It is. Even though this world isn't real, I wanna stay here." He rested his forehead on hers and cried. "I wanna stay with you... please..." 

“You can, love.” Peggy held his head against hers.

“I wanna stay… I wanna stay… I wanna stay…” 

He closed his eyes. A fatal mistake. 

He couldn't feel her anymore. He was alone. Her presence was gone, the warmth dissipated. Her small breaths that he listened to like it was his favorite music in the world, was no longer there. Instead, he heard his own. Panting, panicked, and pained huffs were the only sound that filled his ears. And he hated that sound. The sound of his own voice was viciously tedious. He liked the vibrations that left her lips much better. 

Steve's breath shuddered. Now he was cold and something was dripping off of his body. 

_Water._ He surmised. _Cold water._

He opened his eyes, blurry at first from the droplets, and peered through his soaking hair that draped over his lids. _The cellar._ The sunken wood stairs, the musty smell, the cement floor, the tray that held torture instruments, and there was the man that was responsible for that dream. Steve didn't know if the droplet of water dripping down was a tear or the cold water that was now showering him. He shivered and he could see his breath. He looked to the man. 

"Where is she!" He whipped his head around so his hair would be out of his face. Steve's teeth chattering like the ticking of the clock, loud and repetitive. 

The man did not answer. He watched Steve drown in his own sorrow as his body shivered underneath the pouring rain. “Why…” His voice cracked as he bowed his head. “Why…”

The man still remained silent. He watched as he finally broke the great Steve Rogers. He was crying. Steve was crying. He finally snapped. The burly man stood and left Rogers to himself. The cold shower was shut off and the only sound in the room was Steve’s sobs. 

He remembers the hallucination. Their past. Their house. The little, sweet things that they used to do. A whole other life that he wasn’t a part of. But it wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been because the Peggy he knows has passed. The Peggy he knows is gone forever. He tried to move on so many times but when he’s alone, all he thinks about is her. She keeps him warm even on the coldest nights. Even in the cellar he sits in, the memory of her in his arms, her breath on his face, it keeps him warm. The fresh reminder has him in tears, and although he may feel broken, Peggy will make him stronger. She would want him to.

Steve Rogers will _not_ break.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before Infinity War came out so I've had this for a while and was just waiting to post my long stories of cap and peggy and then this would be a buffer between the two stories but that didn't work out lol. enjoy this
> 
> Instagram: @sensational.bitch


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